Transition
by This is My Pipebomb
Summary: Life is always filled with ups and downs, along with plenty of decisions. When a long-term relationship comes to an end, sometimes it's because an unforeseen new relationship is building. However, not everyone sees it right away.
1. Don't be so Sure

**Prompt: **Hero. **Word count: **400

**AN: **So I'm moving this story out of my Promptfic because I've decided to make it into actual little story. Nothing too long since it's another "three year" but this is just mainly focusing on the right-after break-up of Yamcha and Bulma. So hopefully it's not too boring or cliche...If it is, sorry.

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own DBZ or any of the characters. They belong to Akira Toriyama.**

"Here ya go, babe." Yamcha dropped the pizza boxes on the kitchen table.

"Thanks, Yamcha, I really owe you one," Bulma breathed out as she finished washing her hands in kitchen sink.

"So." He slid up next to her. "Who's your hero?" His hands where gripping the counter as he leaned over toward Bulma.

The woman gave him a half-confused look. "Goku, you should know that." A hand rose and shoved the man's chest, forcing him out of her personal space.

A disgusted scoff was heard from the entrance of the kitchen and both adults turned to look at the alien houseguest. The two humans watched as the Saiyan walked over to the table. Bulma quickly pushed away from the counter, a hand resting over the top of the boxes. Vegeta sneered, giving off a low growl from his throat. Yamcha still stood against the counter, watching carefully as the scene in front of him unfolded.

"Do you have a problem with my statement?" Bulma gave a playful glare at the man in front of her. She watched as his dark eyes flicked to her hand then her face.

"You should know the answer to that question, woman. Of course," he started, his gaze shifting to the other man in the room with them, "it's better than admitting the weakling over there could ever be a hero." At least the defective Saiyan Kakarot had strength. The quick thought caused a bitter expression to pass over his face.

"Hey!" Yamcha shouted defensively, ready to join the other two, but the look he received from Bulma was enough to make him stay where he was. He didn't like it, but after watching the two conversing on several occasions, he knew Bulma could handle herself around the Saiyan Prince.

"So," Bulma started up again, her hand rising from the boxes it had been sitting upon, "if Goku isn't the worthiest candidate for being my hero, who is?" A smile turned her lips up as she watched those eyes narrow even further.

"Don't," was the only word he could growl out before a finger was poking at his chest.

"Could it be that _you_ want to be my hero?" Her hand was harshly slapped away as laughter filled the room.

"Not even in your dreams," he ground out, ignoring her laughter.

Her laughter abruptly stopped. "Are you so sure about that?" she questioned haughtily.


	2. Miscalculation

**Prompt: **Brush. **Word count: **200.

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own DBZ or any of the characters. They belong to Akira Toriyama.**

Vegeta brushed the questioned off with a roll of his shoulder and a scoff. "Quite sure. Who in their right mind would _want_ to be your hero?"

"I would!" Yamcha declared as he pushed himself from the counter and walked over to join them.

When Bulma felt an arm wrap around her shoulder, she shrugged out of it, giving Yamcha a glare. "I thank you for the support, Yamcha," her tone sincere until the next part, "but I don't need it."

The shorter man smirked as the taller frowned slightly.

"Bulma."

Said woman turned on Yamcha, forgetting about the Saiyan. "We broke up for a reason, remember," she practically spit in Yamcha's face.

"Yeah." A hand rose to scratch at the back of his neck. "But…"

"I thanked you for bringing the food here, and you're welcome to some if you're hungry but that's it!" She whirled around to face her other victim, only to find him now missing. Bulma wanted to scream, but kept it in as she looked over at the one box her alien guest had left. "It's yours if you want it," she said somberly.

"Why do you let him get to you?" Yamcha asked grudgingly.


	3. Trying to Make Sense

**Prompt: **Pride.

**AN: **I am going to apologize for the short chapters, but with the first two chapters it was a rule that I had to write with that set word count. As for this chapter there is no excuse expect that this story is basically going to be short and sweet and mainly from Yamcha's POV on the developing "relationship" between Bulma and Vegeta.

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own DBZ or any of the characters. They belong to Akira Toriyama.**

"I don't," Bulma started defensively.

"Oh please," Yamcha interrupted her by dragging the chair roughly along the floor before sitting down. "If that was any other person that walked out on you—including me—you would've chased them down."

Bulma crossed her arms as she watched her ex-boyfriend flip the pizza box's lid open. "And Vegeta's not like any other person. He's a loose cannon."

Yamcha cracked a smile and chuckled a little. "You didn't seem to have a problem provoking him just a minute ago. Where'd all that pride go?" The ex-bandit lifted a slice of pizza to his mouth.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A hand slammed down on the table next to his meal and he gulped the food he had been chewing, almost choking on it at the unexpected action. Angry blue eyes blazed with fire as they met with his surprised brown eyes. He quickly covered his mouth as a cough seized his throat.

"Don't tell me that you think I let Vegeta get away with anything he wants," she seethed, pulling back a little as he coughed. "It's just hard keeping up with his disappearing acts," Bulma muttered darkly, not looking directly at Yamcha.

Red in the face, Yamcha put the slice of pizza back down and focused his attention on the woman in front of him. "You know where he lives, Bulma. Where he sleeps, eats, trains. Don't tell me your father didn't put something on the gravity simulator so you or he could cut the power." You didn't date Bulma Briefs for nearly a decade and not learn a little something about the eccentric family.

She snorted, her arms crossing over her breasts. "It gets old. Tracking him down, making him stop what he's doing, all so I can have a petty argument over who's right."

Yamcha's jaw almost hit the floor at her admittance. Bulma loved to argue, or so it seemed that way all these years he'd known her, and now all of a sudden it was getting boring. With Vegeta?

"What's that look for?" Bulma tapped a finger on her bicep as she looked down at Yamcha.

He cleared his throat, being caught off guard by her question. "Arguing with Vegeta gets boring? From what I've seen you seem to enjoy pushing his buttons."

Her arms quickly unfolded and a hand tightened into a fist. "Not boring, it's just pointless." She refused to comment on the enjoyment factor of her actions. If Yamcha wanted to think she was doing it for fun, then let him. She knew that arguing with the Saiyan was like yelling at a brick wall—a brick wall that could get up and walk away from her any time it wanted to.

"Because you both twist each other's words to use them as ammunition?" The only response he received was an irritated huff. "You've finally met your match, have you? Who would've thought there was someone out there in the universe with as much pride as you." A heavy fist connected with his head, making him wince and gently rub the sore spot.

"The man just has his head shoved up his own ass," she grumbled. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." Bulma turned her nose in the air, her arms swinging lightly by her side, as she marched away from the ridiculous accusations.


	4. The Usual Argument

**Prompt: **Wrath.

**AN: **Well, this one's a little longer, so enjoy ^^

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own DBZ or any of the characters. They belong to Akira Toriyama.**

Bulma stormed through the compound, fists shaking by her side and mumbling curses at both men. Her blood was boiling, making her skin flushed and she could feel sweat prickling at the surface of her pores. Hitting Yamcha had made her feel a little better, but his words still rang in her ears. She didn't always let Vegeta win or walk away on her, did she? She scoffed, feeling her blood cool and her vision clear a little as she thought through the last year.

As she mulled over her dilemma, her path was suddenly blocked by a sturdy body causing her to bounce off the person's chest and stumble backwards. A growl formed in her throat as she opened her mouth to rant, only to have her throat cease up as she looked up at her long-time friend.

"Goku," she choked out, a small smile curving her lips up, "what are you doing here?"

One of Goku's large hands landed on his son's head. "I was wondering if Gohan and I could use the gravity simulator for a bit."

"Oh," she started, a bit surprised, "well, I suppose." She paused for a bit as her smile turned sly and her blue eyes glinted with mischief. "Follow me."

Goku grinned down at his son before following after Bulma. Once outside, Goku was greeted with the familiar sight of the spaceship/gravity chamber. Bulma's face was plastered with a grin of her own as she punched in her code to open the ship's door. Upon finding it empty, her grin widened and she mentally laughed.

"Well, there you go guys." She ushered them in, then turned to look at Goku. "You know how to work it, right?" When she received a nod, she continued, "Good. Well, the gravity can now go up to 400G's, and you just take as much time as you need."

Goku rubbed the back of his neck, a bit nervously. "You sure? I mean, I don't wanna take away from Vegeta's training."

"Oh, don't worry about him. He can find somewhere else to train while you guys are here. After all, you're guests, and he's been using this nonstop since it's been built and rebuilt," Bulma quipped as a wrist twisted in the air. "So if he starts causing trouble just come get me."

"I don't think we'll have ta worry 'bout that," Goku started with a smile. "He's headin' here now."

"Is that so?" Bulma asked curiously, that sly smile crossing her lips again. "You two just enjoy your time and I'll talk with him." She turned to look at Goku again. "Okay?"

The full-blooded Saiyan gave a short nod. "Sure thing."

With that, Bulma turned from the father and son and headed down the ship's ramp. As the ramp slid up and the door closed, she was suddenly face to face with a very irate Saiyan. "And what can I do for you?" her tone bored as she slipped around the body that was blocking her way.

Before she could get too far, her path was blocked again. Vegeta's lips were curled up into a snarl as he breathed a bit heavily. "You know exactly what you can do for me."

"Hmm." A finger rested on her closed lips as her eyes rolled toward the sky. "Nope, I don't think I know, and if you're not going to tell me what the problem is…. Well, I have work to do." Three fingers jabbed roughly into her shoulder, stopping her movement once again.

"What are that idiot and his brat doing in _my_ training room?"

Bulma laughed lightly. "Your training room? If I remember correctly my father built it, so I think I have more control over it than you do." She slowly blinked her eyes and slapped his fingers away. "And I said it was okay for them to use it _as long as they'd like_," she practically hissed the last part.

Vegeta's arms quickly crossed over his chest as he resisted the urge to strangle the woman in front of him. "Tell them you changed your mind."

"No." Her hands landed on her hips. "And don't you go bothering them, either." A snort filled the air between them before she opened her mouth again. "I suppose it doesn't matter, since Goku could kick your ass in seconds flat."

His fists clenched and the muscles down his arm rippled up to his shoulders. "I don't want that third-class moron in there messing up the equipment," Vegeta ground out.

A smirk crossed over Bulma's face. "Uh-huh. Then you go kick the Super Saiyan and his son out. If you dare," she challenged, her hands rising to cross her arms over her chest.

Vegeta huffed, his arms unfolding so he could raise his right hand over her shoulder. Directing all his ki into the one hand, a smirk of his own covered his lips.

"Don't you dare," she seethed.

"And why not? They'll survive," Vegeta taunted, a bit coyly. "Then your father can build a better machine for me."

Bulma stepped closer to the volatile Saiyan, her arms bumping against his chest. "Do it and I can guarantee that I'll not only kick your ass, but I'll make sure that you don't get another gravity room."

"Oh," he mocked surprise, his eyes going wide. "And how's that going to work, exactly?"

"Like I'd tell you," she scoffed, her head turning to the side to avoid his eyes.

He hummed lowly, pushing his chest against her arms. The push made Bulma step back a few paces and brought her gaze back towards the enemy. Without waiting another second, a fist came up to collide with her opponent's chest.

"Oww," she mumbled, pulling her hand back from the wall of steel. "What the hell are you made of?"

"Flesh and blood, just like you," he retorted. "Shouldn't you know that by now?" he bit out, his eyes directing from her to the ship.

Blue eyes narrowed at the loaded question. "I know; it was just a rhetorical question," she scoffed lightly, not taking the bait he had so easily lain out for her to start another argument.

With the thought of blasting the ship to pieces and inflicting pain on the female in front of him now gone, his hand once again lowered to his side as he snorted. "Of course it was."

Bulma gave a sharp nod. "Can I go back to work now without you causing trouble?"


	5. Unfolding Truth

**Prompt: **Envy.

**AN: **This is another shorter chapter, but it's probably/hopefully one of the more significant chapters. And you if you **don't** like Yamcha, then this may not be for you. I love Yamcha dearly, so I am not going to make him into a puss or a complete bastard!

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own DBZ or any of the characters. They belong to Akira Toriyama.**

Yamcha leaned against the doorframe, keeping his eyes focused on the couple outside. He'd sensed Vegeta's fast movement, but he hadn't been quick enough to stop the Saiyan from leaving the house. He'd barely made it to the entry way of the kitchen when he heard the back door slam shut, so here he was, stuck watching the scene unfold from a distance.

From inside the house, Yamcha watched the two adults argue. A frown marred his face as he felt his heart tighten at the sight. Vegeta made it look so easy to stand up to Bulma's ranting, a feat he knew was almost impossible. Hell, even Goku wasn't completely immune to the woman's screaming and sometimes pleading words.

He knew Bulma could handle herself around Vegeta, but he still didn't trust the man. He didn't understand how his ex-girlfriend could put up the ill-tempered alien so much. He scoffed at his thoughts. Perhaps he shouldn't have given her that pep talk in the kitchen. He blew out a sigh. It wouldn't have mattered in the long run, for he knew just how often the Saiyan Prince and the Capsule Corp heiress ran into each other on a daily basis, and they always seemed to have some form of words to exchange during every passing.

His back straightened suddenly as he saw Vegeta's hand lift to stop her. His own hand was on the door handle before he even had time to think, but he stopped himself from turning the knob as he watched Bulma slap the appendage away. A small smile covered his lips as he watched the woman stand her ground. If he thought Vegeta made it look easy to put up with Bulma, it was certainly true the opposite way as well.

Yamcha watched as she put her hands on her hips, a sign she was gaining the upper hand on whatever they were discussing. A few seconds later, however, he watched as Vegeta's shoulders twitched and the muscles along his back and shoulders rippled and tensed. The action only caused Bulma to smirk and he let out a breath of relief, his hand almost moving off the handle, until he saw Vegeta's hand lift and point over her shoulder towards the ship.

His body moved automatically, wrenching the door open and stepping outside, only to come to a standstill again. He was surprised that he could barely make out their conversation, as neither one was yelling. It was like they were having a normal conversation about the weather, although both bodies were tensed and barely an inch apart. That was until Bulma took a step closer, closing that little gap so their bare flesh met.

Yamcha blinked before his eyes went wide at her statement. Bulma threatening physical harm to Vegeta? He was about to take a step closer until he heard Vegeta's mocking reply. The parallels played out again in Yamcha's mind. The tall warrior knew that if that was himself out there, Vegeta would've already pounded his body into the dirt. Instead the Saiyan only continued to bait the woman in front of him.

The ex-bandit stood his ground, arms crossed, as he continued to watch the exchange. Vegeta once again gained the upper hand as he nudged Bulma back, but then the unexpected happened—Bulma actually went through her threat. Granted it did absolutely nothing and showed just how little she could defend herself if Vegeta happened to physically attack her. Yamcha took another unconscious step forward as he watched Bulma cradle her hand and narrow her eyes.

In the time it took him to blink and decide if he should swoop in, Bulma was looking in his direction. He gave a half smile, now unsure if he should head over to the scene or turn around and go back inside.

"Yamcha, come here!" Bulma called over Vegeta's shoulder.

Said warrior let out a sigh and trekked toward the other two. He wasn't sure what Bulma was up to, but he knew it couldn't be anything good. Upon hear Vegeta give a very derisive snort, he almost turned back around and headed inside; except as he looked forward seeing Bulma's now smiling face, he couldn't exactly slink away like he wanted to when he caught Vegeta's head turning to gaze at him. Yamcha tried to straighten shoulders and look unfazed, but the fact was that even though his 6 foot frame towered over their 5 foot 3 inch frames, he was the one that felt impeccably small.


	6. Facing Facts

**Prompt: **Sloth

**AN: **Only a few more prompts left, so three more chapters left to go.

**Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or any of the characters. They belong to Akira Toriyama.**

"What's up, Bulma?" Yamcha asked as he finally stood beside his ex-girlfriend. A smile was plastered on his face even though he could feel his nerves twitching at being so close to Vegeta. He felt a hand slither up his arm so it could rest against his shoulder blade.

"Why can't you be more like Yamcha?" Bulma finally asked the complacent Saiyan.

"What? Weak and lazy?" Vegeta snuffed, his eyes traveling over the taller man.

A smirk crossed the smaller man's lips as Yamcha opened his mouth, only to be beaten to the punch.

"Yamcha trains as hard as he can!"

Another derogative snort was directed at the taller man. "His power level has hardly changed in the last year. If you are training," Vegeta finally directed his entire focus on the scarred human, "you sure are doing a piss-poor job of it."

Once again it was Bulma that got the words out first, "He's only human, Vegeta. We can't help it that you and Goku are freaks of nature."

"How do you explain the short bald one? Or even the tall bald one with the three eyes?" Those dark eyes stayed on Yamcha as he directed his questions towards Bulma. "They're human, right?"

Yamcha gulped as a hand rose to rub the back of his neck. He didn't want to admit that Vegeta was right. Sure when he'd been living at Capsule that first year, he'd been out almost every day doing routine moves to keep up his physique. Of course the big factor had been watching Vegeta go into the gravity chamber every day and train under all that gravity. The human warrior knew from the start that he'd never be able to compete with the Saiyans' strength, but he had been out to prove that he could at least catch up to Krillin and Tien.

Unfortunately, somewhere along the way—with his waning relationship with Bulma and the overwhelming need to lead a normal life—he'd lost the will to fully train. He'd go to the gym, pumped to workout, only to catch his eyes wandering through the crowd for a cute girl. Then it would remind him of just how far he and Bulma had drifted apart over the years, causing his good mood to dissipate and the will to become stronger would fade as well.

The days after their final break-up were even harder to work through and he more than often found himself wondering how Bulma was taking it-if she went through mood swings or if there were days when she refused to leave her lab or her bed. Then there were the days when he remembered that Bulma was crushing on Vegeta, even if she hadn't wanted to admit it. Perhaps she really didn't understand it or maybe she was flat-out ignoring it. Yamcha had given her time, though, before finally visiting the Briefs' household once again—as a friend. The visits once again reminding him of just how hard Vegeta trained his body and how little and unmotivated he had been over the span of a few months.

"Of course they are!" Bulma spit out, her hand finally leaving Yamcha's back so she could once again cross both arms over her chest. "It's not fair to count them, though, since Krillin got that upgrade on Namek and Tien doesn't have or want a life."

A chuckle rose from Vegeta's throat as that infamous smirk was planted on his lips again. "So having a life entails you humans to be lazy." A hand rose to stroke his chin in thought, almost expecting a retort from the woman. "Sounds like a load of shit to me," he finally continued. "Let's take you for example, shall we?"

Yamcha watched as the Saiyan's dark eyes roved down Bulma's figure in a thoughtful manner. Perhaps he should get it over with and admit that he wasn't training as hard as he should or could.

"You have a life, right?" Vegeta asked rhetorically. "I've seen you go out on your dates with this guy." His eyes flicked towards Yamcha before quickly settling back on Bulma. "Yet somehow you still find the time to bitch at me and anyone that will listen."

"That's not the same…" Bulma was cut off as a finger lifted in the air between them.

"Not only do you find the time to bitch, moan, and whine; you also find the time to get ready for these so-called dates, which, let's say, takes at least an hour or more for you. So somewhere between all that life, you manage to do your job of building or planning inventions."

"Or listening to you scream at Dad and I," she muttered darkly. "Which is where you're probably counting all those of hours of bitching I do," she huffed lightly.

"And what do you do all day?"

Yamcha swallowed thickly again as that gaze fell upon him once more. "Uh," he managed to open his mouth and produce a sound.

"Exactly."

The one word was spit at Yamcha, causing the human warrior to open his mouth again. "You're right, Vegeta." With that statement he managed to grab the other two's full attention. "I have been slacking off, and I have absolutely no excuse for it."

A self-satisfied smirk crossed Vegeta's lips as Bulma huffed once again. Her eyes narrowed and glanced between both men. She couldn't believe she'd been standing up for Yamcha, only to have him finally admit to being lazy. A hand clenched into a fist, but her anger was put on pause as Yamcha started talking again.

"Maybe you should take a page from your own book, Vegeta," the taller man began, not caring if the Saiyan decked him at this point. When he received a raised eyebrow, Yamcha continued, "I may have gotten off-track with my training, but maybe you should take a break. Even Goku doesn't train all the time, ya know."

A scoff filled the air briefly before Vegeta finally spoke. "What would you suggest I do other than train on this miserable planet?" he sneered.

"I don't know." Yamcha gave a slight shrug as he looked from Vegeta to Bulma. "Maybe Bulma could find something for you to do." A smile tugged at his lips as he watched the woman's eyes widen. "I'm gonna go finish my meal and get back to my life."


	7. Lesson in Restraint

**Prompt: **Lust.

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own DBZ or any of the characters. They belong to Akira Toriyama.**

Yamcha turned his back on the pair, happily surprised that he hadn't been physically assaulted by either of them, and headed back toward the house. The human and Saiyan watched the tall figure disappear behind the door, leaving them in an unbelievable silence. The duo stood there in the blazing sun, both their arms crossed and staring at the closed door as if they expected Yamcha to come back out.

The reality of things was that both adults were pondering over the situation and Yamcha's words. Vegeta looked at the woman from the corner of his eye, wondering just where and when the weak Earthling had collected a pair of balls to speak his mind for once. As if the blatant disrespect coming from the scarred human wasn't bad enough, then said human had so generously offered up his ex-girlfriend as a source of entertainment. He couldn't deny the joy he felt at the offer, since the woman had handed his training room over to his rival, but there was something about the situation that he didn't like.

The Saiyan didn't need to look at her to know she was pissed at the man who had just walked away. It wasn't just her miniscule amount of ki spiking within her, it was the air around them. He could feel the electricity sparking through the air and it sent a small tingle down his spine. The feeling was unwelcome and unwanted as he felt the odd yet familiar heat of lust seep into his blood.

"Do you have anything for me to do?"

The question came out of nowhere, breaking Bulma from her anger. She stared at the alien, unsure of how to answer because she wasn't quite sure if he was just being an ass. So instead of answering, she decided to narrow her eyes and think through her options. "Oh please," she began a bit sarcastically, "don't tell me you're going to take Yamcha's words seriously."

He offered a small shrug. One corner of his mouth turned up quickly before fading back into a straight line. "You've barred off my normal training routine."

Her arms unfolded and her hands—palms out—came up between them. "So go train somewhere else. Isn't that what you'd normally do?"

"Unfortunately your friend has a point," he admitted a bit dismally.

Bulma groaned. "And now you expect me to entertain you?" Why her? "Go find Yamcha and pick a fight for all I care. I have stuff to do today," she grumbled, ready to head back inside.

"It can wait, I'm sure," he said through a toothy grin. His arms remained crossed over his chest and his feet stayed planted on the ground. He had made no move to stop her this time, yet he noted her pause then freeze to the spot she had stepped to.

Her lips pinched together and she closed her eyes for a moment as she lifted her head toward the sky. "Fine. You can be my personal slave for the day." When her serious eyes met his furious ones she laughed. "Oh, I'm supposed to entertain you." She hummed lightly, a finger rising to tap at her lips as she thought. Blue stayed connected to black, watching his features for any sign other than hatred to appear. "Look, if you don't wanna do this, just say so." Her hands landed back down on her hips. "If this is just your stubborn ass trying to prove a point, I really don't want to be involved."

He blew out a silent sigh, willing his body to relax. His arms uncrossed to rest at his sides and his eyes became a little less narrowed. "I will not do petty labor work for you, but if you have a real suggestion then I'm listening."

His neutral tone had Bulma's eyes going wide for a second. Vegeta was seriously asking for suggestions to relieve his boredom? She wanted to smile, laugh, point in his face, but she held the overpowering urge back. "Okay," she answered a bit softly. "How about you teach me how to fight?"

A loud barking laugh cut across the heated atmosphere, making Bulma shiver. She had never heard Vegeta laugh and it was an odd noise to her senses, and she wasn't sure if the chill going through her body was fear or pleasure. Fortunately she didn't have time to dwell on it as Vegeta finally spoke.

"Teach you? And just what will that accomplish? You have no power level to put any energy behind your attacks," he scoffed, remembering the punch she'd delivered to him and how it had hurt her. Without warning, a finger was poking was chest and blue eyes were inches away from his dark ones. Their noses were almost touching and he could feel her breath fanning against his mouth and cheek.

"It's called basic defense!" she seethed, yet remaining cautious of how close she was standing to Vegeta. "And you should know that most humans are just as weak as me." She backed off a little, as her tirade ended. She pulled her hand back as well, placing it back on her hip. "If you don't want to help me, then fine." She took another step back. "I've got plenty of stuff to keep me occupied throughout the day."

Vegeta's spine straightened, his neck twisting to pop and relieve some of the tension. "What do you expect me to teach you?" A sneer covered his features, showing his unwillingness, but his tone had remained neutral and unstrained.

She gave a tiny shrug. "Basic defense? How to punch correctly. What's a good stance?" she rattled off, her eyes drifting up towards the sky as she thought.

"So everything I learned when I was 3 years old?" he mocked her inexperience.

Bulma just narrowed her eyes and answered, "Yes. So are you gonna show me or not?"

"First," he started, "let's work on your fist." He was having trouble fathoming just how this woman was around so many warriors yet couldn't even form a proper fist. Had she really no interest in fighting or had the other men brushed her aside? He snorted as her hand rose and formed into a loose ball. "Pathetic." He took hold of her hand, his fingers maneuvering hers into their correct position before squeezing his hand around hers to tighten the now properly made fist.

"Oh." Bulma could feel a blush rising to her cheeks, but she concentrated her focus on her hand. "So I've been folding my fingers wrong all these years?" she asked, mostly to herself.

"You obviously have never been in a real fight then. You would've broken some fingers if you had," he snorted derisively. A well-formed fist planted itself into his shoulder, only to have it pulled away again.

"Dammit!" the woman shouted as she shook out her hand again. "Okay, so what about stances? Something that can make me hit harder?" she questioned as she looked down at her throbbing hand.

"Not that it would do you any good against me," he scoffed again, but a faint smile turned his lips up. He couldn't deny that the woman had spirit, but she was treading on dangerous ground if she thought she was going to be able to use this training session as an excuse to beat on him.

Bulma watched as Vegeta crouched, his knees bent slightly and his chest pushed forward. His arms extended forward and his hands balled into fists.

"Stay on-guard for any move your opponent will make." A fist shot forward, stopping right in front of her nose and he smirked.

Her eyes went wide and she stumbled backward a few steps before opening her mouth only to have it close again. After taking a few seconds to collect herself, she crouched just as he did—or so she thought. When she saw his face, she looked down at herself. "What?"

Instead of saying anything, the Saiyan walked towards her and stepped behind her so he could nudge one of her foots slightly forward. He walked back around, looking at her posture once again, and deciding that it was still wasn't right. Both hands wrapped around her right thigh, picking the leg up and throwing her off balance.

Bulma's hand landed on his shoulder's as she tried to keep her balance. "You did that on purpose," she hissed, her mouth hovered over the shell of his ear. She heard a chuckle before her foot was rotated slightly and placed back on the ground. "Jerk," she spat as he straightened himself.

Vegeta took a step back, ignoring the degrading remark. Finally deciding that her legs were properly positioned, his eyes traveled up. "Too loose," he commented as he looked over her upper posture.

"Excuse me!" Bulma half-shouted before she watched Vegeta step behind her again. She felt the heavy weight of his hands press on her shoulders, moving them down. A hand skimmed down her spine, stopping in the middle and pushing it slightly forward. A chilling tremor coursed through her body and she couldn't stop her herself from shivering.

"You okay?" his tone held a bit of amusement, as the hand still on her shoulder kept her from losing her form. He leaned forward, his mouth now directed over her ear. "I won't be offended if you tell me you can't handle this."

Her head whipped away from his mouth as her body regained a stiffer posture. "I'm absolutely fine. A breeze just hit me." She heard a low hum beside her and she knew Vegeta wasn't buying her obvious lie—for there had been no sign of a breeze all day.

Ignoring the heady feeling rushing through his own body, Vegeta continued his lesson. His hands positioned the woman's body as it needed it and instructed on how to move after he was through.

Unbeknownst to the teacher and student, a set of eyes watched from the house. The empty pizza box had been thrown away, and Yamcha now stood looking out the kitchen's window. When he'd suggested Bulma could find something for the Saiyan Prince to do, he hadn't necessarily been thinking that she would personally entertain him, but he had been wrong. He shouldn't have been surprised, mad, or even disappointed by the turn of events. He could see the tension between them from a mile away, he had for quite some time now, yet his mind and heart didn't want to believe it just as Bulma and Vegeta were surely pushing the thoughts to the back of their minds.

He pulled away from the window as Vegeta finally left his post from behind Bulma—after the alien had gotten a good view of her backside—and moved in front of her, holding his open hands up for her to hit. A dejected sigh left his lips as he headed through the quiet house and out the front door, intent on washing the memories away.


	8. Letting Loose

**Prompt: **Gluttony

**A/N: **I really want to thank everyone that's fave/watched this and a really big thanks to the few that have reviewed :) I'm glad I could give Yamcha a different character setting other than jerk/abuser, and I hope everyone that's reading this reading enjoys this chapter ^^ cause I enjoyed writing it!

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own DBZ or any of the characters. They belong to Akira Toriyama.**

Her afternoon and early evening had been quite productive, but the sun and Vegeta's strict instructions had her sweating like a pig. Towards the end, she was hoping that she didn't stink too badly, but if Vegeta noticed he hadn't said anything or acted offended. Still, she had been ready for a shower for quite a few hours and was ecstatic to be standing under the heavy, luke-warm spray of the shower head.

A hand ran through her sudsy hair and squeezed the ends. She watched as the bubbles slithered down her body and down the tub's drain. During their lesson, she'd forgotten that Goku and Gohan had come over to use the gravity chamber, and the fact that it been the reason she had been throwing punches at Vegeta in the first place—verbally and physically.

Bulma grabbed the soap, lathering her body and washing away the evidence of hard work-washing away the heavy drops of sweat that had come from Vegeta. The places where his firm touches landed and molded her body into the correct positions. A soft sight parted her lips and blew the spray of water from her lips. She couldn't say for sure whether Vegeta had been as distracted as her, but she thought he had been by the end of their lesson.

_The door to the ship opened and the ramp worked its way down. Both occupants out in the yard stopped what they were doing and stood frozen on the lawn as they watched Goku and Gohan emerge from the ship. Bulma wiped the sweat from her forehead and shot a big grin towards her friend. Goku returned the smile as he and Gohan headed down the ramp. _

_Vegeta glanced at the woman before bringing his attention back to the two other males. He let out a silent huff before heading towards his now free training chamber. He squared his shoulders and pushed between Goku and Gohan as he reached the end of the ramp. Gohan was easily pushed to the side, but Goku stood his ground. _

_The two full-blooded Saiyan's stared at each other, Vegeta's shoulder still pushing firmly against Goku's arm. A snarl ripped from Vegeta's throat as he tipped his head to the side and continued to glare at his rival. Goku returned the look with an impish grin before the look faded and both men were heading their separate ways—Vegeta up into the ship and Goku over to his son and Bulma. _

"_So how'd you're training go?" she asked to whoever would answer first. _

"_It went great," Goku replied happily. "Thanks for letting us use it, and it looks like you even managed to hold Vegeta back, too." _

_Bulma laughed as her arm rose to wipe more sweat from her brows. "Yeah, it wasn't easy, and if it wasn't for Yamcha coming out here I might've gotten Vegeta to leave for the day instead of occupying my time."_

_Goku's brows furrowed a bit. "Yamcha was here?" He had sensed the ex-bandit when he arrived, but with the training session going on he hadn't exactly kept tabs on everyone. _

_Bulma's eyes widened a bit as she took a heavy breath, still trying to calm her racing heart after the work-out she'd been put through. "Yeah, he's probably left by now 'cause I haven't seen or heard from him since he walked away after suggesting I help Vegeta come up with an idea to relax." _

"_Oh." It was Goku's turn to show wide eyes at Bulma's statement. "H-he suggested?" the tall Saiyan stammered a bit as a slight blush rose to his cheeks. _

_Bulma gave Goku a suspicious look before bending her neck down to look at Gohan. "Did your dad hit his head in there?"_

_Gohan gave a short laugh as he scratched at the back of his head. "The training was pretty intense Miss Bulma," was his only response. _

_Before either adult could speak up, Goku's stomach growled. He gave a sheepish look before rubbing his belly. "Well, looks like it's dinner time. I bet your mom's got it started already," he said as he looked down at Gohan. The boy gave a small affirmative nod. Goku lifted his head once more to look at Bulma. "Thanks again for letting us use the gravity chamber."_

"_No problem at all," she replied with a smile. "Next time, though, why don't you try calling ahead so that I don't have deal with grumpy." Her head nodded toward the gravity room where Vegeta was._

"_Right." Goku gave a small laugh as he rubbed the back his neck. "Maybe next time he can spar with us."_

_Bulma laughed lightly. "I wouldn't be holding my breath, Goku."_

_A slight frown marred Goku's face. "Yeah, suppose you're right." Another large growl came from Goku's stomach and he almost doubled over. "We'll see ya later, Bulma." Goku closed his eyes, searching out his wife's ki, before grabbing onto his son and lifting two fingers to his forehead._

"_Bye," was the only thing Bulma could get out before the two disappeared._

Bulma reached out and turned the water off. Her hands ran once more through her hair, wringing the water from the blue strands as she pushed back the shower curtain to retrieve a towel. Her stomach let out a monstrous roar, and she suddenly felt a bit of sympathy towards her Saiyan houseguest. After all that kicking and punching she was starving, and she wondered how Vegeta managed to stay holed up in the GR for most of the day with his alien appetite.

After drying herself she throw the towel back over the rack and went to her room to pick out some good lounging clothes because there was no in hell she was dragging herself down to the labs and working at this point.

Now freshly showered and dressed, she headed back downstairs to see what was on the menu. She thought about stepping outside to the gravity room or using the intercom down in the lab to tell Vegeta, but she once again pushed the thought aside. Vegeta was a grown man, if he wanted to eat she was sure he'd turn that stupid machine off and join her family. If he didn't, well, what exactly could she do aside from yell and bitch, and with the thoughts of their afternoon lesson she wasn't in the mood to get pissy with him. Nor did she want him to think that she was once again trying to control him by making him do something he didn't want to.

**~S~**

It was closing in on eleven o'clock and Bulma had just pulled on her pajamas, ready to snuggle into bed and get an early morning's start when the phone rang. She groaned, "Who the hell's calling at this hour?" Grabbing the phone from her nightstand, she answered, "Hello?"

"B'lma, sho glad ya anshered," came the highly slurred voice of her ex-boyfriend. "W'are upta?"

A hand lifted to rub at her forehead. "I'm getting ready for bed, Yamcha. I had a pretty busy day after you left me to fend off Vegeta," she bit out, not in the mood to talk with the drunken man.

"Oh," he sounded surprised and hurt at the same time. "Di'ja enjoy yourse'f?" The mention of Vegeta seemed to have a sobering effect on the warrior.

Bulma could feel her eyes narrow as they stared at the phone's base as if it were actually Yamcha. "How dare you! You're the one that left me alone with him, after informing him that I could help him find something to do!"

"Awe, come on, babe," his tone sounding clearly hurt now.

"Don't you pull that shit on me now!" Bulma screamed as she sat up in bed. The covers flew from her body, revealing her night clothing. "I don't know what you were trying to prove earlier today, but that was a bitch move you pulled on me!" A fist pounded down on the blanket covered mattress. She really wasn't in the mood to deal with this, but if Yamcha was going to act hurt over her yelling…well, it was only making her blood boil further. "And why the hell are you drunk dialing me?"

"Well, I was gonna 'pologize for this af'ernoon, but if y'are gonna be a bitch 'bout it, then fuck it," his tone taking on a bit of rage.

Bulma sighed, regaining her control. Her fist flattened to let her palm rest against the bed and she cradled the phone between her shoulder and ear so her other hand could rub her eyes and forehead. "I appreciate the apology attempt, but why don't you try it when you're not drunk. It might come out a bit better," her voice losing its edge as she calmed down.

"Shi', Bulma. I donno wha's going on anymore. I jus'," he paused.

Bulma could hear a loud noise in the background, and her brows furrowed a bit. "Yamcha?" She could hear him breathing heavily, but she wondered if he was really alright.

"Look, I'm sorry, 'kay? I'm not blind, though, ya know?" his rage once again took over as his mind argued with itself.

Bulma let out a breathy sigh, reminding herself not get hostile again. "What the hell are you talking about now?"

"You and 'Geta, what the fuck else?" he practically spit, the alien man's name like poison on his tongue.

"Fucking hell, Yamcha," frustration filtered back into her voice. "Seriously? You're the one that left me alone with him, remember?"

"I di'en mean for you ta stay with him! I jus'," he stopped himself again. "Fuck and that bastard was checking ya out," he grumbled irritably. "Could'n you have thought of summin else?"

Bulma felt her breath catch in her throat. "What?" She started laughing at the impossibility of Vegeta checking her out. "You think Vegeta was checking me out? When the hell did you see anything like that?"

"Today!" he half-growled. "When he was teachin' ya!" Another wave of sobriety went through his system as he recalled the scene. "He was standing behind ya, his hands al' over your body." With the wave of anger came regret and he could feel his eyes tear up. "An' if that weren't bad 'nough, his eyes were all over your backside."

She thought she heard a sob on the other end of the phone but brushed it off. "Yamcha," she started slowly, "I think you were just seeing things. I asked him to teach me how to fight properly, he was probably just checking to make sure I was standing correctly."

"Bull-fucking-shit! I ain't an idiot, Bulma. I know the difference between checking someone's form for flaws and checking someone out."

"Oh, right, how could I forget?" Bulma rolled her eyes. "From personal experience right?" she accused.

A fist connected with the wall he was leaning against. "Dammit, Bulma! This is the guy that killed me! And you're letting him touch you so casually!" the anger far out-weighing his alcohol intake, sobering him up almost completely.

"Look, I'm through talking to you. You're drunk and being completely stupid. So please don't call me again until you sober up," with that being said, she slammed the phone down and fell back against her pillows. An arm threw itself over her eyes and she willed herself not to scream. She was doing fine until a few seconds later when the phone rang again. She picked it up and slammed it down again.

When it started ringing again, she completely threw the covers off her body and stomped out of the room. She knew it was a bad idea, but she didn't know what else to do. If Yamcha thought Vegeta and her were doing something, she would prove him wrong. Perhaps sending Vegeta to check on him was a shit move—if she could convince Vegeta to go—but she was beyond frustrated and pissed at her ex-boyfriend.

She stopped outside Vegeta's closed door, giving it a few heavy knocks.

"What?" he growled, almost ripping the door from its hinges.

Bulma took a few steps back as her heart raced. She didn't know why her body was surprised, it wasn't like Vegeta being pissy and hostile was anything new. A hand rested over her chest, above the swell of her breast, as she took a calming breath. "I have a problem."

A sneer replaced the anger in his features. "Then fix it yourself." He was about to slam the door, but one of her hands pressed against the door as the other pressed against his naked chest. He growled again.

"Please," she forced the word from her throat as she inched closer, "just this once."

His eyes narrowed, taking in the sight of her. "I don't do charity work, woman."

"I know, I'll," she swallowed part of her pride, "give you something in return." The hand that was pressing into his chest curled so that a single finger was poking him. "But only if you do as I request. Don't go blowing shit up or injuring and killing people."

He grunted and the finger pulled away. "And what do I get in return?"

Her hips cocked to one side as she gave him a sideway glance. "An upgrade to the gravity simulator or the bots?" When he shook his, her eyes almost popped out of her head. "Then what?"

A sinister smirk covered his face. "I'll let ya know when I think of something." He leaned against the door, his hand weighing heavily on the doorknob. "Deal?"

"Fine," she growled, but glad that he pulled back at her answer. "I just need you to go check on Yamcha."

"Why?" He lifted an eyebrow as annoyance flitted over his features.

She sighed, her body slumping slightly. "Because he won't stop calling here and he's drunk."

A chuckle rumbled in Vegeta's throat. "And what exactly do you want me to do about it? I'll happily finish the fool off."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "I said no injuring or killing." She heard a snort come from the male and place her hands on her hips. "I just want to make sure he's okay and not doing anything stupid."

"You owe me greatly after I do this," he grunted, walking over to the closet to get a shirt.

"Yeah, I know," she grumbled as she watched the fabric cover his well-toned muscles. "Just try not to be a complete dick about it." She knew she was treading in deep water, letting Vegeta have an inch of control over her, but she was hoping it would be worth it because she really didn't want to deal with drunk Yamcha in person. A low hum startled her back into reality and made her realize just how close Vegeta was to her again.

"You think too highly of me, woman, especially if you suspect that I won't request anything from you in the end," he bit out darkly. A smirk settled over his lips as he saw her shoulders quiver. "I'll be back shortly," his parting words dangerous and full of warning.

**~S~**

Yamcha tilted the bottle of brown liquid up, taking another large gulp before shuddering as the alcohol burned down his throat. He blinked his eyes, trying to get rid of the slight blurriness so he could move to the couch instead of leaning against the living room wall. He stumbled forward, the brown liquor sloshing in its container as the hand holding it jerked forward then back.

"Shit," the ex-bandit muttered as he fell back against the wall again and slid down to sit on his butt. His free hand lifted to hold his forehead. He just wanted his conscious mind to go away; he didn't want to remember the things he had just so easily spouted off to Bulma. He groaned, letting his hand slip away and his head fall against his raised knees. "Bulma, I know what I saw."

There was no way he had been imaging the look in Vegeta's eye as they roved over her backside. Yet, his mind couldn't comprehend what the Saiyan would want with Bulma. Yamcha took another swig of the liquor, wishing the alcohol would work faster. A sudden knock at the door had his head swinging up to look in the direction of the door, unsure if he'd heard correctly. When another heavier pounding came, he finally straightened his legs and back.

"Come in, it's unlocked," he answered, thinking it was Bulma or even Krillin or Goku. When Vegeta waltzed in though, he instantly pushed himself to his feet. A snarl ripped from his throat as he bared his teeth like a wild animal.

Vegeta closed the door behind him, a clear sign of disgust rolling over his features as he looked over at Yamcha. He rolled his eyes at the lazy defense stance the man took up quickly. "I'm just here to check on you."

A bout of insane laughter spilled from Yamcha's mouth as he lifted the hand that held the bottle towards Vegeta. "You? Check on me?" More laughter filled the apartment's living room. "That's fucking rich. Were you listening in on Bulma's conversation?" The laughter in his voice disappeared abruptly at the thought of Vegeta being with Bulma so late into the evening.

Vegeta snorted at the drunk man. "Do you think I give a damn about that woman? She sought me out and forced me to come here, and seeing that you're absolutely fine I'll be leaving." He turned his back on the human and his hand landed on the door handle.

"Bulma forced you?" the laughter was instantly back in his questioning. "She already got you that pussy whipped?"

Vegeta's grip tightened around the handle and it took all his restraint to not rip the piece of metal out of its spot. "What was that, human?"

"You heard me! I saw the way you were touching her. The way your eyes lingered on her body. Are you gonna fuck her?" Yamcha took a long swig of the liquor, wanting his senses dulled as much as his tongue was.

Vegeta pulled his hand from the knob, crossing his arms and shooting a dark stare towards the inebriated human. "What business is it of yours? The two of you broke up some time ago if I recall correctly."

Yamcha took a staggering step forward, a hand still braced against the wall. "She doesn't deserve it. An asshole like you that'll just use her."

The Saiyan scoffed, taking another step into the apartment. He hadn't expected the human to have grown an even bigger pair of balls since this afternoon. "Bulma's a woman who knows what she wants. You're just pissed 'cause she finally realized you weren't worth her time, and if you wish to keep your life you better be shutting your mouth."

The ex-bandit pushed away from the wall. It took him a few minutes to gain his balance, but he eventually did and in record time was standing before Vegeta. "Or what? Bulma probably told you to be nice." A sneer passed over the taller man's face. "Will you go against her? Kill me because I'm talking so disrespectfully to you?" A snort came this time as he towered over the Saiyan. "Do you think Bulma would let you into her bed after finding out that you killed me, again?"

"Maybe she'd welcome me with open arms for getting ridding of a nuisance like you." A self-satisfied smile twisted his lips up. "Of course," that smile only grew as he spoke again, "she did promise me something in return for coming over here."

Yamcha balked, his frame frozen in slight terror at the Saiyan's words. "Y-you wouldn't."

Vegeta merely closed his eyes, the smile dimming so it was only his lips curved up. "I've yet to decide, but that sounds like a grand idea, and after today's lesson I'm sure the woman wouldn't be too offended." His dark eyes opened once more to see Yamcha stumbling back an inch. "Maybe if you're lucky, she'll come crying to you after I'm done with her."

"You're a fucking sick bastard, Vegeta," the words were barely above a whisper, but the hate in the taller man's eyes was enormous.

The Saiyan let out a low hum. "Thanks for the compliment." He turned his back on the human, his hand landing on the doorknob and finally turning it to open the door. "You might just wanna keep track of those balls from now on." When his comment was answered with a confused look, he continued, "Don't act like a pussy; it's refreshing to see you not pissing your pants."

Yamcha looked down, still a bit confused. When he finally looked back up, the door was already closing and he was again surprised that he wasn't lying sprawled out on the floor in pain.


	9. Giving In

**Prompt: **Greed.

**A/N: **This was supposed to be the last chapter, but it ended at a point, so at some point I will be doing an epilogue to wrap this story up.

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own DBZ or any of the characters. They belong to Akira Toriyama.**

Vegeta made it back up to his empty bedroom, Yamcha's words still heavy on his mind. What did he want? Did he honestly want Bulma? He knew his body was definitely responding to the woman's body and spirit, but he hadn't intended on following through with the idea. It was bad enough how often he got bitched out now and he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like after he found himself in bed with the woman.

Human's tended to be emotional and needy, something he wished to stay far away from. Besides, his hand had been working out just fine over the last few years. He stripped out of the shirt he'd thrown on earlier, letting it land next to the closet door—he'd hang it back up later, or move it to the hamper in the morning. He was tired and just wanted to get a few hours of sleep before he started back up on his quest to attain his own legendary status that Kakarot had stolen from him.

He threw back the covers on his bed, ready to lay down, when his eyes landed on the lump of human flesh in his bed. An unconscious and almost silent growl vibrated his lips as he looked down at the mass of blue hair covering his pillow. "Woman!" he called as he gave her back a push, rolling Bulma's body fully onto her stomach.

Bulma moaned, not wanting to wake up. She knew she hadn't been asleep for long, so why was her body fighting against the rest it needed?

He gave another nudge to her ribs, pushing her closer to edge of the bed. A small hand came up to swat at his prodding fingers, but it only made him deliver the final blow.

Bulma fell onto the floor with a thud and a groan. "What the hell," she muttered, looking up the side of the bed in confusion until she saw the grinning face of Vegeta.

"Serves you right after falling asleep in my bed."

Vegeta's face disappeared from her view, and she watched the mattress sink with his weight. She pushed herself up, her hands gripping the side of the mattress for support as she pulled herself up to stand. "How was Yamcha?"

"Drunk." Vegeta rolled onto his side, facing away from Bulma. The thoughts of requesting her body as payment were still fresh and too tempting. Of course there was also the fact that he wasn't too keen on bringing a prostitute into his bed, and if she agreed to the request that's exactly how he'd view her.

Bulma let out a breath, leaning against the mattress as her eyes locked onto Vegeta's back. "So he's okay? You didn't kill him, did you?" she asked a little sarcastically, but was a bit worried.

The Saiyan rolled onto his back, a hand over his eyes. "You're lucky I didn't kill him with all the shit he was talking."

She let her elbows rest against the mattress, her eyes now resting on his pecs. "You too, huh? Now do you see why I didn't want to go see him?" She watched as his muscles flexed with tension.

"So you sent me?" he asked, a bit annoyed that she wasn't leaving. "Smart move on your part, woman."

Bulma laughed lightly. "I thought it was." When his dark eyes clashed with hers, she smiled. "So what do you want?"

"You, out of my room, so I can sleep."

"That's all? Wow." She pushed herself to stand. However, instead of leaving the room, she walked around the bed so she could lean over and kiss his cheek. "Thanks, I really appreciate you checking up on him and not killing him."

A slight pink tinge covered his cheeks, his eyes widening a bit at her kiss. "Don't expect me to do it again."

"I know," she said smoothly, a smirk curving one side of her lips up.

Alone at last, Vegeta let out a heavy breath. He wanted her, didn't need her. The reminder laid like lead on his mind, but like thick fog rolling over his mind the idea kept coming back no matter how much he reminded himself.

**~S~**

Bulma was surprised when she walked out of her room the next morning and saw Vegeta patiently leaning against the far wall. "What's up?" she asked a bit nervously but tried her best to be cheerful.

"I changed my mind." He pushed himself from the wall, stalking over to her.

She gave him a confused look. "Changed?" Her eyes went wide as she realized what he was talking about. "That's not fair. I said you could ask me for anything…" her voice cut off when his hand cupped the back of her neck.

A smirk was her only answer before his lips pressed firmly against hers. Her eyes went wide at the contact, and she struggled a little before settling into the action. Their lips rubbed together, neither willing to take the next step before he pulled back.

"What was…."

"Shut up," he told her calmly. His fingers caressed the side of her neck where they still rested. "I want you to keep your mouth shut for an entire day. I don't want to hear you bitching at me or anyone else. I don't want to hear what you think or any problems you have. I don't even want to hear any noises of frustration and anger."

"You can't just…" she was cut off once again with the press of lips, and this time she closed her eyes.

He pulled away quickly, still unsure of his actions towards her. "I can and I will."

"And…"

This time a finger came up to press against her lips. He couldn't admit that he didn't have a plan of what he would do if she disobeyed him, but he had to think of something fast. "We'll continue those training lessons if you don't keep your mouth shut."

A twisted smile reached her eyes. Her hands landed on her hips as she leaned forward, her lips inches from his own. "Bring it, Prince." She wouldn't deny her body like he was. She wanted him badly and she was tired of pretending like he wasn't affecting her.

Her lips smashed against his, her arms quickly wrapping around his neck so he couldn't pull away. His eyes momentarily closed at the pleasurable feel of her body pressed to his, but he controlled the urge to hold her closer. Instead he let her kiss him; let her tongue slither along and between his lips before letting his tongue do the same to her.

When her greedy hands ran over his shoulders and down his back, however, he forced her off his body with a push of his hands under her armpits. Bulma hummed with approval as she stepped back, letting her arms drop back to her side.

"Can the lessons be in private?" she questioned coyly.

"If you promise to keep your mouth shut," he answered stoically.

Her hands gripped the tank top he was wearing; dragging him into her room, but her plan was thwarted as he quickly ripped her hands from his clothing.

"Not now, you idiot."

She frowned, her lips pouting out as she leaned against the doorframe. "When?"

"Never if you keep talking." He received a glare and he leaned forward to let one of his arms rest against the wall. "Bring my dinner to the gravity chamber and we'll go from there."

A smile lit up her features as lust clouded her eyes at the mere thought of getting to kiss him again. She stretched out her hand, catching Vegeta's hand that was still resting by his side.

He smirked. "I'll be waiting." With their hands still connected in the shake, she pulled him forward so she could brush her lips against his. He easily pulled away from her trap, and received a wink from her before he turned his back on her.

The day was bound to be much more interesting for the two of them than it was for Yamcha—who groaned as he woke to a pounding headache and relived the night before. Had he really said all that stuff to Bulma? Did he really stand up to Vegeta and receive a compliment in return instead of getting his lights knocked out? As he pushed himself up from the couch, his muscles sore from the awkward sleeping position and uncomfortable furniture, he concluded that his mind was right. As he swayed on his feet, his eyes squinting in the darkness of his living room, he decided that it was probably best to stay from Capsule Corp for a while.

Of course, at the moment, the only thing his body wanted was some nourishment and sleep, and that's exactly what he planned on doing for the next few days. Regardless of Vegeta's backhanded compliment and his own admittance of being lazy, Yamcha just couldn't make himself go out in public like a zombie. No, he'd let his mind and body be selfish for a few days and recuperate from its stress. Then maybe he could wait a month or two before visiting Bulma, let her blow some steam off and pray that she wouldn't still be pissed about the things he'd said.


End file.
